---

Crossing Schemes (3)

Bang!

With a loud explosion, water and foam erupted from the spot where the shell landed.

Kemal frowned at the swaying ship and cautiously spoke to Yusuf.

“Your Majesty, I apologize, but…”

“I know. You mean it’s hard to use as cannons.”

“…That’s correct.”

Kemal deeply bowed his head, but Yusuf waved his hand nonchalantly.

The cannons of this era were called Verso, a type of breech-loading cannon that became known as blangi cannon in the East.

Its advantage was that, being breech-loading, reloading was fast, and it was easier to aim than cannons of this era.

‘Of course, if it only had advantages, it wouldn’t have been replaced by muzzle-loading cannons.’

When one thinks of modern cannons, it’s natural to picture muzzle-loading cannons, which became dominant in the West for a reason.

Breech-loading cannons couldn’t close well, causing gas to escape backward, which reduced firepower and increased the explosion risk.

In naval battles where the first to strike has a higher chance of winning, it was inevitable for breech-loaders to be outclassed.

However, it wouldn’t do to just load up ships with muzzle-loading cannons in the future either.

There were several issues to use them effectively.

“The biggest problem is indeed the ship, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s right. Just look at that swaying ship over there.”

The galley, crowded with rowers, rocked precariously after just one shot.

If the sea hadn’t been calm and there were waves, capsizing would’ve been no surprise.

“We fired three shots, and it swayed that much. If we fired more cannons simultaneously, the ship could capsize.”

“Exactly.”

We were in a transitional phase.

It was a time shifting from close combat on boarding to cannon warfare, and the Ottomans mainly utilized galleys due to their large crew, advantageous for boarding battles.

The problem was that galleys were long and vulnerable to waves, and since the oars needed to touch the sea surface, there was a limit to how high the hull could be made, preventing them from carrying many cannons.

“If we’re mainly going to carry cannons, we should choose a ship of the line over a galley. But whether that cannon is worthwhile enough to warrant switching is in doubt.”

“It’s not without reason that galleys’ve been used in the Mediterranean for so long.”

“That’s true. It might indeed be better to build several galleys than to spend money making a ship of the line.”

As the size of the ship increased, production costs rose significantly, and within the Mediterranean, galleys weren’t bad.

While sailing the open seas posed a greater risk of encountering rough storms, the Mediterranean was relatively calm.

That’s why the wave-vulnerable galleys could survive for such a long time.

But could it be said that the Mediterranean was so quiet as to justify stubbornly clinging to galleys? Not at all.

‘If it were, I wouldn’t have needed to call Kemal in the first place.’

There was no need to summon someone doing well on their mission just for camaraderie.

In truth, Kemal Reis, the famed admiral who led the navy to victory against Venice, had a rather anticlimactic end.

He died while escorting a cargo ship during a violent storm.

No matter how capable a captain, in the face of the capricious sea, they’d prove no more than a mere creature.

“Even for a large ship, if the recoil is that severe, we can’t use many cannons. The shock might damage the hull, too.”

“I have an idea about that.”

This issue didn’t require a huge brainstorming session, as following historical precedents offered solutions.

It wasn’t even going to be a costly matter.

“Regarding the recoil issue, we could simply give the cannons wheels.”

“Wheels?”

At Yusuf’s suggestion, Kemal briefly fell into thought.

Predicting outcomes from previous experiences wasn’t hard, even without scientific knowledge.

‘Wheels, that’s definitely a good idea.’

With a slightly surprised look on his face, Kemal gazed at Yusuf.

Some cannons already on land had wheels, so it wasn’t a completely astonishing idea, but it was indeed a suitable solution.

“With wheels, as the cannon fires, it would roll back, relieving some of the strain on the hull.”

“It’s useful for reloading too. You’d need to pull the cannon back to load it anyway after firing.”

You needed to load powder and shot into the bore, so the cannon had to be maneuvered back and forth.

Kemal nodded at Yusuf’s explanation but immediately raised a concern.

“The problem is that, like that, the cannon would get pushed far back upon firing.”

“That’s a correct prediction.”

If the cannon could shoot a massive projectile far, the opposite force would be tremendous.

It was common for the cannon to be pushed back over 3 meters upon firing, and no matter how much it had wheels, bringing the heavy cannon back up front to fire again was backbreaking work.

‘If the fight drags on, it’ll be the men who fall before the cannons do.’

The likelihood of accidents was high, and the reloading speed would also slow down.

The solution to this came from the maritime power that was Britain.

“We can attach a rope to the wheeled cannons to prevent them from moving too far back.”

Kemal groaned as he couldn’t fathom how significant an effect simply attaching a rope could provide, and Yusuf casually smiled.

“It’ll work out better than you might think, so don’t worry.”

It was a method that prevented a cannon that was previously pushed back by 3 meters from moving more than 60 centimeters.

It was the secret behind how British gunners could fire 2 to 3 times faster.

“We’ll have to think more about the cannons slowly.”

“Understood.”

Since galleys were the mainstay right now, we couldn’t just recklessly introduce cannons.

At present, fitting one cannon on the bow of a galley would be about the utmost we could do.

To properly utilize cannons, we would need to switch to a ship of the line. Even the largest Venetian galley could only carry 14 cannons.

It couldn’t even set sail by itself and had to be towed by other ships.

‘And on top of that, we’d need the skills to operate a ship of the line in the Mediterranean.’

Operating a pure ship of the line without rowers in the relatively calm waters of the Mediterranean wasn’t exactly a simple task.

This aspect needed continued research and time.

“More importantly, what’s the current status of the canal the Mamluks are digging?”

It was the most tantalizing news lately.

“Thanks to the funding from Venice, we could mobilize a large workforce, and progress is happening quickly.”

“It’s good to hear that it’s going according to plan.”

To Kemal’s curious look, Yusuf threw out a significant statement.

“Do you really think it was achieved solely by the thoughts of the two nations?”

“…Could it be?”

“Sometimes there are unseen hands at play.”

It was something that had felt necessary in the original history, yet never proceeded.

That it was happening already suggested that the deceased Bayezid hadn’t taken his words lightly but had helped fan the flames in the interim.

Kemal, who had never expected the Ottomans to be behind such a large project, wore a shocked expression.

‘Since they’ve meddled in this money-eating hippo of a canal, the Mamluks will soon be staggering.’

Ignorance is bold, indeed.

No matter how wealthy the Mamluks were known to be, undertaking the construction of a canal would surely stagger them, and by the time they regretted it, they’d already made a large investment.

“In just a couple of years, it’ll be ripe for the taking.”

It was an opportunity to eat both the Mamluks, who were groaning under the burden of digging for cash, and the canal that would be somewhat operational.

I hope that time comes soon.

*

“God damn it! What a miserable life!”

A man dressed in tattered clothes hid in a small cave.

The grains he had in his pocket were heavily mixed with sand, but the man ground them and chewed them to survive.

Shaking and sipping a small amount of precious water, he leaned his disheveled head against the wall.

“Damn you, Ismail! You piece of shit!”

How had it come to this?

It was a day just like any other.

The kind of day when he would aggregate information from around Tabriz and smack the heads of his subordinates spitting nonsense.

But then, everything changed in an instant.

“Hassan!”

“Don’t call me that! What’s the matter?!”

“Suspicious fellows entered the castle. They looked like they came from the West!”

If those entering the castle only realized it upon arrival, it meant they came muffled up.

They couldn’t hide their faces entering the castle, so he found out this way, but…

“…They’re from the West?”

Hassan’s face turned grave.

They certainly wouldn’t be visiting for trade-related matters.

Trading with the Mamluks was far better than dealing with the Safavids.

If that were the case, then there could only be one conclusion.

“They likely gathered to contain our Empire.”

“Seems that way, right? Should we inform immediately?”

“Of course. But have you obtained any further information? We should at least know who they are.”

Reacting with frustration, Hassan pressed his subordinate, who pouted in response.

“Well, this was a lucky find. I was trying to see their faces, but the nearby Qizilbash were glaring at me.”

“Really…?”

At that answer, Hassan felt his hair standing on end for a moment.

“Qizilbash, you say? Why would they be fixated on you?”

The Qizilbash were not the type to be on guard or just standing about.

These were individuals who had little contact with the subordinates working inside the palace, and the subordinate answered nonchalantly.

“They probably just passed by.”

“…It might not be so simple.”

Just a feeling, but Hassan trusted his instincts.

However, it was too late to realize then, and the Qizilbash wielding torches launched a sweeping operation.

Using a previously prepared escape route, Hassan barely managed to slip out of Tabriz and bit his lip.

“Fools, I told you not to carelessly speak my name. Is that why you went to meet Allah so foolishly?”

Recalling the subordinates who urged him to leave quickly while calling his name, Hassan caught his breath.

He must return.

For the sake of his subordinates who sacrificed their lives to keep the secret, and to avenge Ismail.

“And when I return, I’ll have to change my name first.”

It was obvious that the name Hassan was cursed.

Hassan sharpened the blade of revenge.

*

Clang! Clang!

“Kill all the rebellious ones!”

As Urji prepared to head back to his base in Tunis, holding Yusuf’s hand to recruit sailors, he spotted a passing ship.

Like a sparrow wouldn’t pass by a mill, a pirate couldn’t let a tasty morsel slip by.

The four galleys led by Urji chased down the fleeing ship and initiated close combat.

“Ugh!”

Laughing as he saw the enemy sailor fall into the sea with a deep cut, Urji made a gesture that the boarding was complete and climbed aboard.

The deck was a scene of madness, with mangled enemy corpses and blood everywhere, and as Urji lightly kicked aside a body blocking his path, he frowned.

“What’s with all these injured guys?!”

“Captain, the enemy resisted more fiercely than expected. There were many who looked like soldiers too.”

As Hajir, whose arm was cut deeply, explained, Urji took out the cloth from his breast and wrapped it around his wound.

“But being hurt like that isn’t good for you! Wrecking everything!”

“It hurts!”

“Stop whining!”

Just as Urji lightly slapped the whimpering Hajir’s back, a pale-faced subordinate rushed over.

“Captain! These bastards are broke! There’s not a single piece of cargo!”

“What the hell?!”

It didn’t make sense to operate such a large ship without taking any cargo.

Urji hastily searched the ship, and upon realizing there wasn’t anything valuable, he wore a face of disbelief.

“Hey, bring me a living one!”

“Yes, Captain!”

The responding sailor dragged along the most elegantly dressed man, and Urji shoved his knife into the trembling man’s hand.

With snot and tears spilling out from the man who cried out in pain, as his hair was roughly grabbed, he trembled and shouted.

“P-please spare me! I-I’ll give you as much money as you want if you contact Venice!”